opened his eyes and looked at Thumbelina. At first she trembled, she was so frightened, for the bird was very large to her, who was only an inch in height. But she was too kind to run away from him.
"Thank you, pretty child," said the sick swallow in a weak voice. "Now that I am warm I shall get strong again and be able to fly on my way."
"Oh, stay where you are," said Thumbelina, "it is so cold outside. It snows and freezes. Stay in your warm bed and I will nurse you."
She brought the swallow water in the petal of a flower. When he had drunk he told her all about himself. He had set out for the south, the warm countries, with the other swallows; but as he flew he caught one of his wings in a thorn bush and tore it. After this he could not fly so fast as the others, so the winter overtook him and he could not stand the cold. It benumbed him so that he fell to the ground. He could remember nothing more after this, until he opened his eyes and found Thumbelina at his side.
The whole winter Thumbelina nursed the swallow. And when the spring came and the sun was warm, she opened the hole in the ceiling and let the sunshine pour in on him.
"I am strong enough now to fly out into the sunshine," said the swallow. "Sit on my back and let us fly far into the green wood."
But Thumbelina would not do this; she knew
